


You know you're in love when you cant fall asleep

by Satanismywaifu



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, Music boxes, Nightmares, Pre-Established Relationship, cute fluffy make outs, i based this off of music box covers and a dr. seuss quote, jean is a cutie, jean marco fluff, marco is a cutie, slight horror maybe?, they are already boyfriends before this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 01:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satanismywaifu/pseuds/Satanismywaifu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean constantly has nightmares about not being able to save marco, but he's too proud to tell marco what he's dreaming about. Marco can do little more than cuddle Jean and repeat "it's okay" into his ear. Usually after a nightmare it's quite hard to fall back to sleep, Marco turns to the aid of Jean's mom's music box.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You know you're in love when you cant fall asleep

**Author's Note:**

> So i saw this cross over on tumblr, shingeki no dr. suess. and it made me think of pne of my favorite quotes “You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” Then i thought of jean/marco and then this happened. I also happened to be listening to music box covers, whilst writing and the songs were so cute and fluffy and yadayada bam, fluffy jean marco was created. (( i wrote this in like a half hour and yeah.. it kinda sucks i have no idea how to make the layout less ugly and im sorry))

Jean was on his knees, staring at the ground, tears steadily flowing from his eyes. He tried to scream, to yell, to say something, but No sound would come out from his chapped lips. He had no thought other than that he desperately needed to get up. But he couldn’t. he tried to move his body from it’s kneeling position but every movement he made felt like he was digging broken glace into an already wounded area. His body was made of lead, feet were stuck to the ground, his neck happened to be the only part of his body still under his command. He knelt not three feet from a half eaten corpse.

 Jean couldn’t bring himself to look at it, he knew who it was. It was the same thing every time this happened, the same corpse.

 Sounds were coming from everywhere; there was no way to pinpoint the source. Screams echoed and bounced off of every building, every corner... all measuring in different tones of fear and agony.

Whispers seemingly came from no where. Jean desperately wished he was able to shield his ears, but his hands, like the rest of his body were un-movable.

“This is your fault” an emotionless voice spoke

“Why would you let this happen?”  A small, almost non-existent mumble

“You’re so pathetic...” said a brittle, broken murmur.

“It should have been you”

This was not spoken; at least Jean didn’t think it was. He let that statement drift through his head.

“it should have been you”

One final scream was released from somewhere. Jean knew who it belonged to. He’s heard it all too many times.

All of the murmurs, stopped. A pause of silence was gifted to him, but it was soon stripped away due to the sudden noises of agreement surrounding him.

“It should have been you”

“It should have been you”

The statement was repeated over and over, growing in octave.

Jean could do nothing but grit his teeth; he wasn’t able to comprehend thought, all he could to be to be the victim to their torturous whim. A new voice emerged from of the swarm of disembodied whispers. Pushing them into a quieter tone and eventually disappearance

“Jean, look at me”

Jean’s ear twitched. He knows that voice. Gentle, warm, caring... Loving.

Marco

He clenched his fingers, their mobility apparently restored. He could not bring himself to look up. He knew what he would be seeing, he could picture it perfectly, down to every last flap of torn flesh. Maybe if he just didn’t look this would all go away?

“Jean, please... look up” Marco’s voice was smaller this time.He sounded as if he was going to cry. Jean clenched his fingers harder, bringing his hands to his ears, only to rake them down his neck and let them fall back to the ground.

“N-no... please... don’t make me” Jean pleaded,

 his face still aimed at the bloodstained tiled ground. At least it used to be bloodstained. Now the tiles were steadily cracking, and crumbling at the edges. The red splatter was now black and steadily steaming away in the direction of the corpse, making smoke like curls in the air just above the ground.

“Jean, please wake up”

His’s gaze was pulled upward, as if controlled by some un-seen force.

And there he was, the picture that Jean was so often plagued by.

Marco.

The left side of his body was rotted, eaten... he was so broken, the blood on him was no longer red. It was a disgusting black with slight tint of red. His face was contorted into something resembling a grimace, due to his absence of lips.

He had nothing to hide his teeth. The corpse was never a still image. It was constantly changing. Flickering almost. Sometimes a flicker would stay long enough for Jean to see a green cloak, and the wings of freedom emblazoned on his chest. Sometimes Jean would see Marco’s body being put together, only to see it being ripped apart the next second. Jean was forced to watch Marco’s face once again whole, falling apart piece by piece. His flesh melting off.

 Jean saw as the corpse changed once again. The stains on Marco’s clothes faded away, the tears in his uniform fixed. His arm and leg faded back into existence. The last to come back was Marco’s face.

Jean tried to look away, but once again his neck was frozen in place. His eyes glued to the dead boy in front of him.

Marco blinked his eyes shut, and moved his jaw, as if learning how to move it again. He again opened his eyes, and they immediately fell upon Jean.

 Marco emitted a stream of coughs and growls, he struggled to make coherent sound. His voice was so broken and dead, it was as if his throat ceased to work correctly.Slowly, with three breaks of labored breath between each syllable, Marco managed to piece together a sentence,

“You could have saved me”

  


Jean awakes with a jolt of his upper-body. Once realizing his surroundings he breathed slowly, inhaling the scent of his lover.

Jean’s face was nestled into Marco’s shoulder; his hands were at clutching at Marco’s side. He quickly let go once he realized what he was doing and ran his thumb over the spots where his nails made marks apologetically. He shifted his face to nuzzle Marco’s shoulder and noticed that the area was moist. Jean’s moved away quickly, embarrassed by the un-deniable fact that he had been crying. His head collided directly with Marco’s jaw. Causing both boys to let out a pained gasp and Jean letting out a bunch of jumbled apologies.

“Jean, it’s alright! really its fine!”  To prove his point Marco, shifted and lightly pushed Jean into his previous position.

“s-sorry” Jean’s voice was more hesitant than he would have wished. His voice too brittle for his liking. He waited a long moment before speaking again, silently willing himself to sound less pathetic.

“Marco?”

“Hmm?” Marco, moved so that his check was resting on the top of Jean’s head, his hair tickling at Marco’s face.

“I-I’m so sorry... I’m always waking you up with this nightmare crap...”

“Jean, really it’s alright” Marco said in a somewhat annoyed tone “stop apologizing so much!”

Jean then untangled himself from Marco’s arms and sat at the edge of the bed, looking at the grey wall. It must be at least two in the morning, Jean deducted due to the lighting of the room. He wiped his face on the back of his hands, and then hung his head in them. Trying to calm him, trying to forget about his dream. Whenever he woke from these sorts of nightmares Jean found it impossible to fall back asleep.

“You know you can always talk about it with me, I’m open to listening” Marco spoke up from behind him.

Marco used that voice soft voice he used when regarding Jean’s nightmares.  He always said the same thing, just worded differently. Every single time Jean would be pulled back into reality, sweating and in tears, Marco would offer the same promise of listening. Marco desperately wished to know that Jean was dreaming of. The fact that Jean could be so scared, so helpless made Marco feel really useless. He wished he could help, and destroy what ever it was that plagued Jean’s dreams. He wanted him to stop waking up in tears, it hurt Marco in so many ways to see someone he loved cry. The concept of hate was foreign to him but what he felt for Jean’s situation was quite close to it. Jean always acted that he was completely okay. He would wake up and then try to pull that “cool guy” impersonation and act as if everything was fine

“Hey? Are you alright?” Marco said as he poked at Jean’s back

“Yeah... I’m fine” came the predictable response.

Jean once again laid down, “I'm okay... I promise”

Marco sighed and didn’t want to argue further, he decided that Jean would tell him when he was ready. Jean turned himself so that he was facing Marco and smiled lightly, trying to prove to him that it was alright. Marco smiled in return and closed his eyes.  Jean studied Marco, his freckles; the bridge of his nose, there was a scratch on his left cheek. Jean leaned over to kiss the mark lightly.

“You’re so cute, you know that?”

Jean’s ears blushed pink at the comment and he scrunched his nose “n-no I’m not...”

Marco let a short breath out of his nose, why did Jean have to be so argumentative? Rather than say anything else, Marco put his hand lightly on the back on Jean’s neck and used his thumb to pet Jean’s skin. Jean “hmphed” and leaned in to kiss Marco, smiling as he did so. Marco always did that stupid neck thing to tell Jean he wanted to be kissed, he was always too shy to initiate one by himself. Marco kissed back, wrapping his arms around Jean’s back to pull him closer, but accidentally forced Jean on top of him. Both boys just slowly kissed, only pulling away for air or to mumble short ‘I love you’s between breaths. Jean poured his fear into that kiss, this embrace almost making him forget his dream. At this moment, Jean found it was impossible to dwell on the horror of a nightmare, not when soft lips were pressed against his own and a hand was softly running through his hair. Eventually Jean pulled away, and Marco puffed out a disappointed gush of air from his nose.

“Lets go to sleep, idiot” Jean said in a harsh whisper.

“Do you want the music box?”

Jean bit his lip, and looked to the side, emitting a mumble.

“What was that? I don’t speak gibberish”

“Y-yes.. I said yes...”

Jean was always sensitive about the music box; it was one of the last things from home that he owned. All of his fond memories about his mother revolved around that music box, she always used to say that it was a remedy for peaceful sleep. He would have rather died than let anyone know of his weakness, it was for BABIES and he was definitely not a baby.

Marco reached under the bed for the box, setting it the floor. He winded the turn piece carefully, it was very old and Marco feared it would break if handled roughly. Dainty music started to play, reminding Jean of home and of his mother, he smiled sadly as Marco began to stroke his hair just as his mother used to do.

“My mom used to say that you know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep, because reality is better than your dreams...” Jean said in a sleepy tone, yawning at the end of his sentence.  

Marco giggled lightly “you are talking about not being able to sleep but yawning like an old dog directly afterward..”

Jean chose not to reply to that and just settled for  “I love you” .

Marco halted his hair petting and whispered “I love you too”

After resuming running his fingers through jean’s hair, and waiting a long moment Marco decided the air was a little still and was in need of a few words.

 “My mother used to tell me that love is something everlasting... I hope that’s true”

Jean’s answer came in the form of a sniffle, he was already asleep. But that’s okay; Marco wasn’t expecting an answer anyways. 

**Author's Note:**

> Heres the link to the music i was listening to  
> http://8tracks.com/whinychester/music-box-covers  
> http://www.youtube.com/user/JoshuaSaundersMusic/videos  
> Give it a listen, its so pretty.  
> How ironic is it that jean quoted a thing about not being able to fall asleep but then falling asleep directly afterward?


End file.
